


Waking Up

by trancer



Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Femslash, First Time, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-04
Updated: 2012-09-04
Packaged: 2017-11-13 12:53:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/503740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trancer/pseuds/trancer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Femslash_Kink 2012, prompt: Rizzoli & Isles, Maura asks Jane to masturbate for her. An evening of drinking and a round of 'twenty questions' gives Jane an unexpected answer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waking Up

It’s the third label Jane’s peeled off in just as many beers. As Jane takes another long and deliberately slow pull of her beer, because something about the way Jane drinks beer turns Maura on, and Jane’s never been one to refuse doing that, Jane notices Maura’s still nursing her martini. Her only martini. Jane’s been noticing a lot of things about Maura lately: the impish little half-grin, the way it makes her eyes twinkle. Jane’s been noticing other things about Maura lately. Interesting things, distracting things, things Jane definitely should not be thinking about her best friend.

Jane lowers her bottle, side-eying Maura. “You did this on purpose, didn’t you?” Jane says, noticing the slur in her own voice.

Maura lifts her eyes, curls the fingers holding her chin and, there it is, that little half-grin of hers. Except, this time, there’s the slightest hint of blush on her cheeks. “Did what?”

Jane twists in her seat until she‘s facing Maura fully. She sets both forearms on the table, leaning forward. “You’re trying to get me drunk.”

The blush on Maura‘s cheeks deepens. “I only offered to buy drinks. You’re the one who continues imbibe to the point of intoxication.”

“Imbibe,” Jane snorts. “Jesus, Maura.” Jane leans back in her seat, picks up her beer and takes another pull. “So, you’re saying there’s no ulterior motive to your alcohol inspired beneficence?”

“Beneficence?” Maura’s eyes widen, lips broadening. “I’m impressed.”

Jane shrugs, smiling despite herself at having surprised Maura. “Korsack has one of those word a day calendars on his desk. Hey!” Jane squeaks, wagging an accusing finger. “You’re changing the subject.”

“And you, Jane Rizzoli, are intoxicated.”

“Am not.”

“Are too!”

“Fine,” Jane huffs. “But only because of you. And you’re paying for the cab, by the way. Hey, Chuck!” Jane barks at the bartender, waving her empty beer glass. “Another round.”

Before either get a word in edge wise, another bottle appears, almost instantly, before Jane. “Now,” Jane pauses, circling her tongue around the lip of her bottle. She’s been noticing a lot things about Maura lately, like the way Maura enjoys watching Jane drink beer. “Where were we?”

“I.. I thought we weren’t playing anymore?”

“Isn’t this the point of getting me drunk? Loosen my lips for a round of ‘twenty questions’?”

“That was your idea.”

“True,” Jane answers. And it was. And while Jane had shared a few details she never would had she not been plied with beer, Maura had been rather stingy when it came to her own answers. Jane has no intention of letting Maura win this game. “So.. my turn.” Jane narrows her eyes, lips drawn into a predatory smile. “Tell me, Doctor Isles, what’s your deepest, hottest, most erotic, panty staining fantasy?”

In an instant, the blood drains from Maura’s face. Just as quickly, her skin flushes, from deep down in her cleavage all the way up to the tips of her ears. She jerks up to her feet. “You’re right, you have had too much to drink.”

Jane leans back in her seat, triumphant grin on her face. “Touched a nerve?”

Maura’s eyes narrow. “Is that a question?” she hisses back, hastily grabbing her coat and purse.

“Maur..” Jane calls out to her, sliding out of the booth and chasing after Maura.

**

“Let’s go to you place,” Jane says as she slides into the cab, slumping in the seat next to Maura.

Maura sighs. “Your apartment is closer.”

“Yeah,” Jane gives her best ‘I don’t know what I did to hurt your feelings but aren’t I charming enough to forgive’ drunk grin. “Your bed’s better.”

“Then you should have purchased the mattress I recommended.”

“A used car would have been cheaper!” Jane whines back. “I’m not paying five-thousand dollars for a mattress.”

“No,” Maura fires back, voice devoid of any anger, “You’ll just sleep on mine.”

Jane leans, too tired, too tipsy to come up with a good retort, placing her head on Maura’s shoulder. “This mean we’re going to your place? I‘d rather sleep with you than alone.”

Maura exhales a chuckle. Jane pretends to ignore Maura’s shiver. Jane‘s been doing a lot of that too, pretending not to notice. 

Maura whispers, “Jane..”

“Damn, Maura, you smell good!” Jane mumbles. Her face is practically buried in the crook of Maura’s neck. For emphasis, Jane takes another long inhale, practically sniffing Maura. “You always smell good.”

Maura just gives another long, exasperated sigh, like she’s filled her quota for saying Jane’s name. Jane chuckles triumphantly, like she’s won some game between the two. A game in which only Jane knows the rules. Jane snuggles in closer, draping her arm over Maura’s stomach, pulling herself into the woman. If Maura smells good, she feels even better, soft and firm and warm, like the world’s greatest pillow. Jane ignores the steady and hard thrum of Maura’s heart, or the way Maura’s hand is on the back of Jane’s head, nails gently scraping against the scalp, the way her lips ghost against the side of Jane’s temple. Jane’s noticed a lot of things about Maura lately, and she’s too drunk too tired, and Maura feels too damn good to analyze this. Because Jane’s sure it means something. That little something she can’t quite put her finger on because she refuses to slow down just enough to give it a second thought.

The moments tick by, between the gentle motion of the cab, the warmth of Maura’s body, Jane can feel herself drifting off to sleep. She almost doesn’t notice when Maura’s lips slip, gently kissing Jane’s temple. Jane almost doesn’t hear Maura’s quieter than a church mouse whisper.

“It’s about you.” Jane hears Maura say. “My fantasy. It’s always been about you.”

It takes everything Jane has not to snap her eyes open. But she can’t stop her heart, which has gone jackhammer on speed inside her chest, or the hand on Maura’s stomach that’s gone all hot and sweaty.

“What?” Jane fakes a drunken mumble, because she’s never been more stone cold sober than this moment. “What fantasy?”

“You,” Maura whispers softly, like she’s making a confession, “Masturbating for me.”

Jane swallows hard. There’s no doubting what she’s just heard, though part of her wishes she hadn’t, hadn’t crossed that line she’s been pushing Maura towards since that first moment they met. “That’s nice,” is all Jane can say before feigning falling asleep.

The next thirty minutes are excruciating. Jane pretending to sleep, all those little things she’d noticed about Maura falling together like puzzle pieces - her smell, the feel of her body and the way it molds against Jane’s perfectly, the swell of perfect breasts, smooth and toned thighs exposed by her skirt. Even Jane couldn’t deny Maura Isles is an attractive woman, no, the revelation was the difference between recognizing Maura was attractive and the realization that Jane was attracted to Maura.

The cab rolls to a stop, and Jane feigns being asleep as Maura pays the driver then slides out of the back, pulling Jane with her. Everything is crystal clear, sharply focused. It’s not the little things about Maura Jane notices, it’s the big things within Jane. Her heart’s hammering now, skin dots with tiny little beads of sweat as her reach a temperature close to boiling. Every step is torture, because the pulse pounding heavily within her chest has reached that spot between Jane’s legs, pulsing, throbbing, and wet. God, is Jane so very fucking wet. Because the dawning attraction has quickly gone from not just desire but to hunger.

Jane closes the door behind her, sliding the lock into place. Maura turns to Jane, with that sweet and slightly confused expression on her face. The expression Jane should have known would be her undoing the first time she met the woman.

“Ja..” Maura never finishes the word. In that little span of time, Jane breaches the space between them. Hands clasped to either side of Maura’s face, Jane crashes their lips together. The kiss is hard, bruising. There’s the moment, where Maura is all stiff and surprised in Jane’s arms, like she’s thinking about saying no. Then Maura just melts, arms draping over Jane‘s shoulders, hands tangling in Jane‘s hair, like this is greatest dream and Maura has no intention of ever waking up. Maura lets out this little whimper, just before she opens her lips and Jane juts her tongue inside.

Jane consumes Maura, inhales her breath as she slides her tongue all about. Maura tastes better than Jane ever imagined. Considering she’s only been imagining kissing Maura for the past thirty minutes, it’s not much. With one hand, Jane keeps Maura’s face connected to hers, with the other, she lets it roam. Jane slides her hand down Maura’s side, then up and to the front, cupping Maura’s breast, giving the slightest squeeze. Even with the bra and blouse, Maura’s nipple is hard against Jane’s palm. Jane shifts her thumb, teasingly rolls and presses. Maura tears her lips away to let out a strained whimper, as her entire body shudders.

“Jesus..” Jane pants into Maura’s open and swollen lips. “Did you just come?”

“It’s..” Maura stammers, licking her lips as she flush even darker from her sudden embarrassment. “My nipples are very sensitive.”

Definitely something Jane forgot to ask when they were playing twenty questions. With a growl rumbling up her throat, Jane’s eyes darken. “Bedroom, now!”

Jane’s been inside Maura’s bedroom hundred times, yet this feels like the first. Hands on Maura’s hips, Jane allows Maura to guide her. When they cross the threshold, Jane closes the door behind her, like this moment needs some kind of extra privacy.

Maura turns, the hesitancy and anxiety written all over her face, like she expects Jane to come to her senses. There’s only one way Jane knows how, to tell Maura how Jane’s been asleep and now she’s finally awake, Jane shows her.

“On the bed,” Jane commands.

Maura moves, nodding in understanding, her fingers moving towards the buttons of her blouse.

“No!” Jane barks. “Leave it on.”

There’s shock, then understanding, then Maura’s eyes darken, shallow breath pushed heavily through her nose. She turns, bends over, the crawls onto the mattress.

Jane watches, slowly stalking back and forth at the edge of the bed, predator eyeing her prey. Like she’s making up for lost time, Jane’s mind races a million miles a second, thinking of all the things she wants to do to Maura. The good things, the sensual, erotic things. The bad things; dirty, naughty, sweaty and nasty.

“All the way,” Jane instructs. “Prop yourself up like you do when you‘re reading in bed.”

Maura rearranges the pillows, rolls onto her back, head and shoulders propped up. “Like this?” she asks, all sex kitten coy.

“Yeah,” Jane grins back. “Just like that.”

The coquettish grin on Maura’s lips quickly fades. Her expression goes all teenaged boy seeing boobies for the first time as Jane begins to strip out of her clothes. She bends forward, sliding her panties down her hips, surprised there’s not a trail of wetness streaking down her thighs because she’s that fucking wet. Had she known tonight was going to special, she would have shaved.

Standing to her full height, Jane takes a moment to watch Maura as Maura stares at Jane, raking hungrily. Jane’s sure she’s never seen anything hotter.

“You know what I’m going to do to you?” Jane asks, Maura’s eyes streaking upwards, locking their gazes. Maura slowly shakes her head.

Jane steps towards the bed, she climbs onto the mattress, slowly crawling over Maura. Maura’s breathing heavily through her nose, like she’s close to panting, breasts straining against her blouse with each heavy rise of her chest. Straddling Maura’s hips, Jane rises onto her knees. She leans forward, placing her hand on the top of the headboard, brings their faces close.

“I’m gonna make your dreams come true,” Jane purrs. She brings her freehand to Maura’s face, grazes her fingertips over Maura’s lips, tracing around the edges. Maura’s mouth opens, breath wet and hot against Jane’s skin, like she’s venting. With a half-grin, Jane gently pushes three fingers into Maura’s mouth. Hungrily, Maura immediately tightens, sucks hard and deep, pulling until Jane’s knuckle deep.

This time, it’s Jane who swallows hard, breath hot and wet as a hard pant escapes her lips. She’s not sure when her fingers became an erogenous zone. But inside Maura’s mouth, with Maura’s tongue slithering and sliding, it’s like a jack that’s hard wired straight to Jane’s pussy. Already, Jane’s hips are rolling, grinding against nothing but air, aching for friction.

Gently, quickly, Jane removes her fingers. Maura holds on tight, head lifting as Jane’s fingers pull out with a wet pop. There are no more words, just an aching need. A need to fulfill Maura’s desires, a need to fulfill Jane’s.

Jane rises, standing on her knees. She takes the fingers slick with Maura’s spit and slides them between her legs. Her mouth goes slack, guttural groan releasing from her throat, because she’s wet, so fucking wet. Her hips jolt reflexively before finding that pace, the pace Jane craves. She works her fingers, quick and hard, sliding, pushing, grinding against her clit. With her free hand, she brings it up to a breast. Jane’s never been one for mixing pain with pleasure but, right now, she needs this. Her head goes back as she squeezes her nipple hard, the pain slicing a jolt of pleasure straight to her cunt.

It’s not long, not long at all before Jane’s legs go rubbery. She releases the hold on her breast, planting it next to Maura’s head as she slumps forward. Something else Maura forgot to ask when they were playing twenty questions - Jane’s favorite position. But, there’d never been a time before, when Jane was in this position, hand buried between her legs with Maura staring back up at her.

Maura’s mouth is slack, brows crinkled, little whimpers bubbling up her throat, like she’s the one with the hand between her legs trying to rub off her clit.

“Jane..” Maura pants, pleads. “Come for me. Please.”

“Don’t worry,” Jane grins back. “I’m definitely going to come.”

Jane takes the fingers working her clit and slides them, quick and so fucking easily, into her cunt, palm pressing against her clit. She groans, eyes rolling into the back of her head as she rushes towards the edge, eager to crash below.

Jane opens her eyes at the feel of Maura’s hands on her face, clasping her gently on the cheeks. Jane opens her eyes, because she knows that’s what Maura wants from her. Maybe Jane’s always known what Maura wants from her. Maybe it took a couple beers and a round of twenty questions to get Jane to finally realize it. Either way, what Maura wants has never been more important to Jane. She wants that look on Maura’s face, in her eyes. Jane wants to be the only person to do that. Jane’s noticed a lot of things about Maura, lately. She’s noticed a lot of things about herself. Jane has one more thing to notice -

She’s in love with Maura Isles.

It’s that realization that sends Jane over the edge, howling and bucking, collapsing atop Maura as she milks herself of every aftershock. Barely having recovered, barely having caught her breath, Jane can feel herself being rolled, practically shoved, onto her back. Before Jane can even think to open her eyes, Maura is already slithering down Jane’s torso, painting a wet and sloppy trail with her mouth.

Jane’s not the only one who’s hungry. Maura muscles open Jane’s thighs, pushing, pulling, until Jane’s legs are folded, thighs pressed to her stomach, pinned by Maura‘s hands on the backs of Jane‘s thighs. It’s been a long time since Jane’s felt so open, so exposed. Then, she feels Maura’s breath, hot and wet, on her pussy. The sensation enough to make Jane clench out of reflex. Jane dares to lift her head, gazes down at Maura who peers up at her through the curtain of hair cascading over her eyes. It’s a look Jane’s never seen on Maura before, predatorily hungry. That look alone is enough to make Jane’s mouth go slack. Then, Maura descends, open-mouth clamps onto Jane’s pussy. A hard groan rips up Jane’s throat, as her neck arches, head slamming into the pillow.

Maura is all slippery tongue and hard suction, like she’s trying to mouth Jane’s pussy whole. Tongue flat, she presses hard against Jane’s still tingling clit, tongues it mercilessly.

“Fuck, Maura,” Jane grits between clenched teeth. One hand already flailing for the headboard as the other reaches down, tangles in Maura’s hair, like she wants Maura to stop, like Jane doesn’t want this to ever end.

Maura stops tormenting Jane’s clit, slithers her tongue lower then drives it fast and deep into Jane’s cunt. Maura moans, deep and throaty, as the taste fills her mouth. The sound sends a hard shiver across Jane’s skin. Her body aches to be in motion, to roll and writhe, to grind herself into oblivion. But Maura’s hands have Jane pinned, all she can do is hold on.

An arm curling around Jane’s thigh, Maura’s brings her fingers to Jane’s clit, as her tongue rolls and curls, slips and slides. Not having recovered from the first time, Jane feels herself hurling over the edge once again. Like a star gone supernova, Jane explodes. A keening wail erupts from her throat, nails digging into the hard wood of Maura’s headboard, fisting the hair in her hand, scraping against Maura’s scalp. Maura is relentless, driving her tongue even deeper, harder, faster, fingers rubbing Jane’s clit furiously. As if orgasm isn’t enough for Maura, she wants everything, everything Jane has to give.

When Jane comes down, chest heaving, muscles twitching and trembling, she barely has enough energy to pull at Maura’s hair, pleading. Maura slows, but doesn’t stop. Gently, she withdraws her tongue, eliciting another whimper from Jane, another hungry growl from Maura. Maura then goes about exploring all those places she didn’t before, eagerly running her tongue all over Jane’s pussy, every fold, every crease and crevice. Until she’s milked Jane of every twitch and tremble, lapped every ounce of wetness.

Eventually, Maura stops. Jane’s not sure if that’s a good or bad thing. She’s too drained to even open her eyes, just spends the sudden quiet moment catching her breath. She can feel the bed shifting, Maura making her way back up. She feels Maura’s hand on her stomach, painting lazy circles, a sensation that shouldn’t feel so damn good, but Jane definitely doesn’t want it to stop.

Finding a little bit of her strength, Jane reaches down, clasps Maura by the hand and brings it to her lips, kissing the backs of Maura’s knuckles. She finally dares to open her eyes, turns her head to see Maura, head propped up with a hand, gazing back at her.

“Damn, Maura,” Jane grins. “Why’d it take so long for us to do that?”

“I don’t know.” Maura shrugs. “Same reason it took you this long to play twenty questions.”

Jane chuckles, turns her eyes towards the ceiling as she shifts her legs, shiver rumbling up her spine as parts still aching and sensitive inadvertently rub against each other. “Do I even want to know where you learned to do that?”

When Maura doesn’t answer, Jane tilts her head. Maura’s expression is different. This expression, hesitant, uncertain, Jane recognizes. “Maura?”

“What does this mean?”

Jane smiles, brings Maura’s hand to her lips once more. “It means exactly what you think it means.”

Brows crinkling, eyes darting about as she searches for the proper words for the occasion. “We’re friends with benefits now?”

The comment should have cut Jane to the core. Instead, Jane melted. Maura was like one of those cadavers on the slab, chest split open, heart exposed and vulnerable to the world, and Maura, protecting her heart the only way she knew how. Jane rolls onto her side.

“Maura,” she says, as she brings her hand to Maura’s cheek, watches her thumb as it grazes over Maura’s lips. “Do you think I would have done this if all I wanted from you was a fuck buddy?”

Eyes closing, Maura lets out a trembling sigh, brushing her cheek against Jane’s palm. She opens her mouth to speak, then quickly closes it again, unsure of the words rising in the back of her throat.

“Maur..” Jane says again, waits until Maura opens her eyes. As Maura looks at Jane as if she’s standing on a mountain of glass, waiting for the moment when it all shatters and she comes crashing back into reality. “I don’t want a fuck buddy, or a friend with benefits. I don’t want to play anymore games, or shitty dates that end in nothing but disappointment,” Jane pauses, thinking about all those moments, the ones before and after she met Maura, when chaos turned to order, when all those damn puzzle pieces shifted together and everything fit. “I want you, Maura. I want to go to sleep with you in my arms, and feel you still there when I wake up. I wanna go to work knowing you’re what I’m looking forward to when it’s done. I wanna make love to you,” Jane purred, voice going low and throaty. “I wanna watch you come, make you scream. I wanna fulfill every fantasy you’ve ever thought of, then make some new ones. I wanna..”

In the blink of an eye, Maura crashes their lips together. It’s urgent, but there’s no hunger, just the physical expression to the place of the words that had failed her. When they part, Jane brushes the tear rolling down Maura’s cheek.

“Is that enough of an answer for you?”

Maura chuckles, nodding her head. “Yes.”

“Good.” Jane’s lips spread into a wide grin. “Because if you think I was leaving here before I returned the favor.” Jane rolls into Maura, pushing Maura onto her back. She brings their lips together, gentle and tender. But it’s not long before the desire grows, before hearts are beating against chests, and breaths are quick and shallow.

“Shall I take my clothes off?” Maura asks after their lips part.

“Definitely. But the shoes?” Jane smiles. “Keep those on. You’re not the only one with an erotic, panty staining fantasy involving your best friend.”

END


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